Illusion
by Rumpelstiltskin und Vladimir
Summary: We all know that Dr. Henry Morgan has died countless times. That's nothing new. But what if something went... wrong? Very wrong. How will his friends- his family- deal with this? -a rumpy only story-
1. Chapter 1

**Faithful Tremors readers (both of you), I want it known that your Overlord Rumpy has not abandoned you. Vlad and I have simply hit a bit of a lull and are trying to get back in the swing of things, and I've meanwhile had Forever on the brain. Anyway, fellow Foreverists, I got this idea for a multi-chapter story a week or so ago and it refused to leave me alone despite the fact I should be focusing on school and whatnot. I wrote it out over the weekend. The entire story. Six chapters. In one weekend. (This is not like me.) I'm going to spread it out until the show returns but do not fear: it is already finished! Enjoy!**

***DISCLAIMER* RV makes no claim to own Forever or its characters. They are the property of Mathew Miller and ABC. No profit is made from this writing.**

* * *

Cool air and a quickly lightening sky marked morning in New York as Dr. Henry Morgan arrived on the scene of the recently-reported death on a street in the old city. A middle-aged man lay on the pavement by the sidewalk, a bit of blood on the ground behind his head. Detectives Martinez and Hanson were already on the scene with the usual tangle of other officers taking pictures, collecting evidence, getting statements, and the like.

The medical examiner approached them and glanced over the body. "Some witnesses say he was hit by a car, but not many saw much. Said it was too dark at the time," Jo informed him, watching Henry carefully as he switched his attention to the rest of the extensive scene only he could see, walking back a bit across the road. He didn't offer the detective a word of acknowledgement, or even a nod as he inspected the ground back up to the body, narrowly avoiding being hit by a car himself.

"You're going to kill yourself before you blow the case up, Doc," Hanson said.

Henry looked up suddenly from his silent investigation. "He was hit by a taxi and killed when his head collided with the pavement," he said matter-of-factly. He waited, but received no response, and sent a puzzled look at his partner.

"It doesn't feel good to be left hanging, does it, Henry?" Jo teased.

"I was waiting for 'murder' to work it's way in there somewhere," Hanson added. "That was the most obvious thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

Henry raised an eyebrow at him. "Everything I tell you is obvious to the trained eye." He turned away from the detective's mildly offended frown.

Jo rolled her eyes. "How do you know it was a taxi?" she asked, figuring the 'he was murdered' part would work it's way in sooner or later.

"Flecks of taxi-yellow paint imbedded in his clothing," Henry explained, picking up a single small piece between two fingers and holding it up. "Judging by the size and discoloration along the edges, a quite older one to be precise."

"So," Hanson started, "he was murdered with an old cab?"

"He wasn't murdered," Henry said casually, waiting again for a response but once again getting nothing. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed their shocked looks.

"You are telling us someone _wasn't_ murdered?" Jo repeated, receiving a nod.

"Oh, I get it," Hanson shrugged. "You're joking."

But Henry's expression was serious. "I don't joke about death, detective."

Still clearly surprised, Jo shook her head. "Okay, Henry, what did happen then?"

"It was an accident," he told her. "The skid marks here," he motioned to the dark marks on the pavement, "line up with the body and were likely caused by the taxi that hit the man, suggesting the driver slammed on the breaks in an attempt to avoid hitting him."

"But he did hit him," Jo nodded, "And took off."

"So hit-and-run," Hanson clarified. "Never thought I'd see the day when Dr. Henry Morgan would say it was an accident."

"I don't go looking for murder, detective," Henry informed. "It just seems to have a tendency to find me. I state the facts, I don't make them."

Jo patted the doctor on his shoulder. "Well, looks like this time the facts make our job a bit easier, even if we still need to find the driver. He or she probably doesn't even know they killed the guy."

Before Henry a had chance to reply, he caught something out of the corner of his eye that attracted his attention. A guarded look crossed his face.

"You okay, Henry?" Jo asked, not much more than a whisper.

She was surprised when the man nearly jumped at the interruption of his thoughts. "I'm fine, Jo. I have something I need to attend to. I'll return in a moment."

"Take your time," she nodded and he walked off towards a shadowed alley.

The figure that attracted his eye disappeared into the space between two buildings, but it was so dark there he hardly made it out. Henry plunged into the darkness himself without hesitation, waiting a moment for his vision to adjust before turning his glare to the man standing facing him.

"Nice to see you again, Henry," the all-too-familiar voice sent a chill down the medical examiner's spine.

Henry took a slightly ragged breath to steady himself, eyes scanning the man who had haunted his most recent (sleeping and living) nightmares. If he didn't know this immortal- this monster- he wouldn't think twice about him. He wasn't one to judge by appearance, but the doctor always noticed that he was a smaller man, non-threatening physically, but that did nothing to put him at ease.

Hands in his pockets, Adam took a step towards Henry, who only then noticed that he felt frozen to his spot. He made an effort to relax, and even brought himself another step towards the fellow immortal man.

"I told you," Henry growled, "to leave me alone. I don't want to be manipulated."

"Who's manipulating you, Henry?" Adam asked with a smile that made the doctor consider fighting or fleeing.

"You are!" he snapped. "You manipulated me into killing a man that you manipulated into a killer. I don't want you anywhere near me, anywhere near Abraham, or anywhere near Jo."

"I'm not manipulating you," Adam said, beginning to circle around Henry who turned to follow him. "We're just talking here. Must you always assume the worst of me? You forget that we are the same. Everything you are going through I have experienced myself."

"You and I are _nothing_ alike," Henry responded, voice nearly a snarl. "And I hope we never are."

"Oh, Henry," Adam sighed with a sickening lilt in his voice, "you have so much to learn. If only you would let me teach you." Taking a hand from his pocket, the man placed it on the younger immortal's shoulder. "It would make this so much less painful."

Tensing up at the unwanted contact, Henry jerked away when he felt a pinch on his neck. His hand flew up to the point of the pain, but he didn't feel anything. "What did you do?" Henry demanded. "What was that?"

Adam grinned. "It's an illusion. Just an illusion."

An illusion? What did that even mean? Could Adam be trying to kill him? What would the point of that be? Confusion swirling in his head, Henry turned on his heels to finally follow his instincts and flee.

Before he made it a few steps away, an arm wrapped around his neck from the back, and a cloth was pushed against his face. He knew instantly what was happening from personal experience, and he was blacked out in a moment.

* * *

Jo checked her watch. The EMS had just arrived to transport the body to the morgue, and Henry was still gone after nearly twenty minutes. She was beginning to get irritated at the medical examiner. Did he think his job was over because he had figured out what had _likely _happened? But then she realized how unlike him this was. The last time Henry had disappeared when he was supposed to be somewhere, she had found him being electrocuted by a jealous sado-masochist.

Suddenly nervous, with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, she turned to Hanson. "I'm going to go see where our medical examiner wandered off to," she told him, hiding the worry in her voice.

"Tell that boy I'll give him a stern talking to when he gets back," the detective joked distractedly, glancing back at her from what he was doing. She swallowed and nodded, forcing a smile.

Jo looked around, unable to actually remember which way Henry had gone. She returned to the spot he had been when he saw whatever it was he saw, standing where he stood and looking where he had been looking. The alley.

After getting across the street during a lull in the much thicker traffic, she quickly made it to the building and peered down the space. She could make out a body lying on it's back through the dim light and her stomach flipped.

"Henry?" she called tightly, voice dripping with worry. She practically sprinted to the body, panic rising in her chest when she made out the distinctive jacket, the unmistakable scarf, and finally his face. "Henry!" she cried, dropping to her knees beside her partner's body. "Oh, God, Henry!" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him, but he was limp in her hands. She placed her fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Hanson!" she shrieked.


	2. Chapter 2

**V: This story is so much more popular than our others. IT'S NOT FAIR. *sobs quietly in a corner* Oh hey, Rumpy's here now.**

**R: To all those lovely people who have followed this story, I love you! And an extra-big thank you to those amazing enough to review. (In the Tremors fandom, you grow accustomed to... fanfictioning in a vacuum. XD) Here is the next chapter, one of the longer ones fortunately. :) Pardon any horrible scientific mistakes in this story, btw, I mostly did this for fun though I tried to keep it as accurate as possible. Enjoy!**

* * *

Lucas walked off the elevator, his new mug clutched in his hand, filled with his own home-brewed coffee. He had recently decided to save more money and had stopped buying coffee in the morning, and was quite proud of himself that he seemed to be sticking with the decision. He saw the very attractive Jo out of the corner of his eye as he walked past, offering a wave in an effort not to stare.

"If you're here looking for the Doc, he probably won't be in for about half an hour," he informed her, noticing his empty office. He usually arrived earlier than Henry anyway.

"Lucas," the detective's voice sounded off, almost like she was about to cry, so he turned around to see what was wrong.

The assistant M.E.'s mug shattered against the floor, splattering coffee on his shoes.

Jo ran her fingers through her hair. "Nobody told you?" she asked, voice wavering.

Lucas shook his head, stepping slowly towards the body on the table. A man lay there just like all of the other bodies in the morgue did at some point . Also just like most other bodies, he was deathly pale with closed eyes. But unlike every other body he had come through this place, Lucas knew this man. It was his boss, Dr. Henry Morgan.

"Doc?" The word escaped him as little more than a breath, unable to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. "Is he... Did he...?" he tried to say, but the words didn't seem to want to form. Jo just nodded. "H-how long?" he questioned.

"An hour," she choked. "I found him in an alley. He was there to... help with a body and... he left the scene to do something... and didn't come back. I found him but it was too late." Fresh tears welled up in her already red, puffy eyes.

For some reason, that snapped Lucas out of his shock. "Oh, no, no, don't cry! Nonono, I hate when people cry, it'll make me cry and we'll both be crying-"

"Okay, okay," she sniffed, breathing deeply, "you're right, it won't help. I'll try. I just can't believe... He was my partner," her voice shook.

"How could this happen?" Lucas asked to no one in particular. "Was it murder? Did he just drop dead? He's not exactly old!"

"I... I think he was killed by someone," Jo answered him. "Who ever he saw that he went to talk to."

"Why would someone kill him?" he asked quietly, looking down at the dead medical examiner. "He was just a doctor. And he was a pretty great guy. Yeah, it kind of took him three years to start acting like a human being but, I mean, I still always looked up to him." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I always thought I could learn so much from him. I really admired him. And I kinda hope that deep down he actually was proud of me or something. Like I wasn't just some assistant bothering him all the time."

Jo looked at Lucas in a bit of both surprise and guilt. She had never suspected that Henry meant so much to the man, but she hadn't considered the fact that they had known each other for much longer than she knew Henry. "I'm sorry, Lucas. But I'm sure you meant just as much to him as he does to you."

He went silent for a moment. "How did his roommate take it?"

Jo felt as if a bolt went through her system. "Abe?" How could she forget Abe? She felt as if her brain had stopped functioning in her grief. Hanson was right to keep her from going after Henry's killer for now. "Oh my God, I have to call Abe." She pulled her phone from her pocket with trembling hands. What would she tell him? Weren't he and Henry like family? They were so close; it was going to break the older man's heart.

She was interrupted from her spiraling thoughts when two other hands enveloped hers and her phone, stopping their immense shaking. "Please, don't cry, detective," Lucas pleaded. "I'll do it, I'll call him."

For a moment Jo considered refusing- this should come from her, she actually knew Abe- but she let go of the phone, knowing she could never keep herself in control for the call.

Lucas pressed the speed dial.

_Am I dead?_

"No, this isn't the detective. Is this Abe?"

_Is this what it's like to be dead? No, I can't be. I think this is the morgue._

"Well, um, this is Lucas Wahl, we've met once before, I think. I work- worked- uh, I'm Henry's assistant medical examiner."

_Is Lucas really calling Abe? What's going on? I can't die! I'm not dead!_

"I- uh... You see. This is hard to tell you, but..."

_What's going on? Why can't I move? My brain is obviously in perfect working condition! But I can't even open my eyes!_

"Dr. Morgan died this morning. He was killed." Lucas listened as the other side went silent. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry, I was expecting more," the voice came through the other end. "Did someone see him die?"

"Uh, I don't think so," Lucas responded slowly, the question striking him as odd. "But Detective Martinez found his body."

"I'm confused," Abe admitted. "She found him in the river?"

"No," he responded, even slower this time. "He was killed in an alley. We don't know what and who did it yet."

_Abe won't understand. I don't die. He knows that._

"What exactly happened after the detective found him dying?" Abe questioned suspiciously.

"Uhhhh, he wasn't dying, sir. He was dead," Lucas clarified in confusion. "His body has been brought to the morgue, if you want come see him."

A long pause. "Is this a joke? Did Henry put you up to this or something?" There was disbelief and bewilderment in the man's voice.

"No!" Lucas said in surprise. "I'm sorry. I wish it was. I really, really wish this wasn't real. But Henry is dead."

"I have to-" Abe started, "I'm going to come see him." And the like went dead.

Lucas was almost dizzied by the confusing phone call. He turned back to Jo, handing the cell back to her. "He's, uh, coming to see the body."

_Abe will know I'm not dead. He'll know for sure, because he will suspect. But why do they think I'm dead? Do I not have a pulse? What has Adam done to me?_

* * *

It's very dark. However, it's not jet-black as one would imagine death to be. I believe that would be because of the morgue's lighting shining through my eyelids. I don't feel myself breathing, nor hear my heart beating, but I cannot be dead, for I am conscious. I can hear everything Jo and Lucas are saying about me, I can even hear their footsteps. And yet, my entire body is frozen. I'm paralyzed.

Paralysis? Is that what this is? Where have I heard of a case like this before? Adam must have given my some sort of drug to make me mimic death. No drug I can remember would leave me with unimpaired neurological function, however. Is this an intended effect? Is Adam attempting to torture me? Or- oh, please, no-

My thoughts are interrupted by the somewhat far-off sound of elevator doors and rushed footfalls entering the morgue.

"Where is he?"

Abe. Thank goodness. If anyone can figure this out, it's Abraham.

There is no answer, so I picture Jo motioning over to me. The three sets of feet headed toward me mean they are all walking over.

"This doesn't make any sense."

No, it won't Abe, because I'm alive.

"I can only imagine how you must feel, Abe." If Jo only knew. Sometimes I wished she does. But she mustn't. She must never. "I cared so much for Henry but I haven't known him for anywhere as long as you have."

"Um," Abe starts, confusion and possibly a hint of grief at seeing my seemingly-dead body coating his voice as he stutters for words. "How did he, uh, die?"

"We don't know yet," Jo informs him. "He went to go do something, I think talk to someone, and when he didn't come back, I found him in the alley."

"Since there aren't any obvious wounds," Lucas adds, "and he seemed to just drop dead, they'll run toxicology screenings to see if he was poisoned." Thank you, Lucas, for keeping this scientific. I think that might help everyone figure this all out.

"Can't you do that now?" Abe urges. Oh, Abraham, you know better.

"I can't. I wish I could but they have to bring someone in who didn't know him. I can't be involved, legally." There is a bit hardness to Lucas's voice. Is he angry? Lucas doesn't get angry!

There is a slightly pause before a response. "I enforce the rules," Jo defended. "I don't make them. Besides," she drops her voice low to the point I nearly miss the last point, "you don't really want to autopsy your boss, do you?"

Panic rises inside me. No, please, no.

* * *

_1903, England_

_Henry Morgan sat chained to a wall, in such a way that any movement was strictly limited. He could reach for a glass or bowl of food to eat, as he did now, and he could kneel or sit, but that was practically it. His clothes were unkempt and dirty and a rather thick beard covered his usually rather clean-shaven face. Dr. Morgan sipped slowly at the bland soup, pressing his hands against the sides of the hot cup to warm them against the chill of the cell._

_The man, though he wasn't much more than a boy in reality, possibly eighteen, standing in front of the doctor cleared his throat nervously. Henry glanced up suspiciously at him._

_"Uh, Doctor, I'm- I just wanted to say that," he took a deep breath, "I don't agree with what is happening to you."_

_"I don't even know what is happening to me," he said matter-of-factly. "I know you know my secret, and that I am being held here, but all other information is being kept from me." At the boy's loaded silence, Henry grew increasingly nervous. "Why? What is to be done to me? If you don't agree with it and are unwilling to stop it, the least you could do is tell me."_

_He hesitated again, but finally knelt down to meet Henry's eyes. "They wish to know what gives you your gift," he said. "By any means necessary."_

_"If that's the case," Henry sighed, "You can tell them I wish I could aid them, but I know no more than they do. I have been searching for these answers myself, and have found none."_

_The boy stood and turned away, rubbing his hand up and down his arm. "I'm afraid that won't be of help to help to you."_

_"Why?" Henry demanded. "What exactly are their plans for me?"_

* * *

If I did not lack the ability to move, I would have likely cried out. Instead, I can do nothing but listen.

There is a very long pause. Abe's breath audibly shakes. "Could I, um, have a moment?"

"Of course," Jo says.

"I'm going to go buy a coffee," Lucas adds, "if you want to come with me, detective."

"I thought you weren't buying coffee anymore," she responds, but their voice and footsteps are already fading as they walk towards the elevator.

That flattered quality enter's Lucas voice before I hear the doors close. "You remembered."

Finally, Abe, they are gone. Now you can figure this out. I feel his fingers press against my wrist for a pulse. "Come on, Henry, you don't die. What is going on?"

I'm not dead, Abe. Keep trying. I know you will figure this out. His fingers press against the side of my throat for a long time as he desperately tries to feel a heartbeat. "Henry, you don't die, please." Shock enters his voice, maybe even fear. I'm not dead, Abraham, I'm still here. I'm here, I'm here with you. You haven't lost me. You'll never lose me.

He wraps his hand around mine and I so desperately wish that I could curl my own around his. I wish I could do something, anything, to ease his suffering, even if deep down I know it will be only temporary. I will not stay alive forever in this state, and then I will disappear as I usually do. I realize now that this is likely my fate, for Abe lays his head on my chest, presses his ear over my heart and hears nothing. He leaves his head there for a moment longer, squeezing my hand and I feel him shake.

Abe, I am so sorry. I'm here. Even if you don't know it, I'm here. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I am causing you so much pain. I'm so sorry.

"Henry, why... how could this... I love you so much, Dad. It's not... It's just not fair. This was never supposed to happen, Dad."

I hear the tears in his voice. The pain in my chest is unbearable. This is my fault. I should have been more careful. How could I allow this to happen, and cause everyone I care about so much pain? And if I die on this table, I will burden them all with my secret, and tear Abe and I from this life that we were growing accustomed to.

Was this what Adam was intending? Was he intending to ruin my life with an illusion of death?

* * *

**Please review, they make me so happy!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Endless thanks to my lovely reviewers! Here's you're eagerly-awaited third chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

_1903, England_

_Henry stared down blankly at his hands for a long moment before looking back up at the boy. "You do realize I will be alive the entire time, for I'll simply disappear if you intend an autopsy."_

_"I'm aware," he responded tightly._

_Henry shuddered at the thought. "I have experienced more deaths than you are aware exist and that is one of the most horrible prospects I have ever faced."_

_Guilt shined in the young man's eyes. "I'm sure they will make it so you won't be aware of what is happening. I'll beg them to make it painless."_

_Henry shook his head. "That may be so, but I'll still experience the aftermath of the dissection. If they intend to keep me here, I'll still have to recover from it. I feel pain and recover the same as you do if I don't die!" He didn't intend for the end to build up into an angry shout, but the simple idea was terrifying him._

_"I'm sorry, Dr. Morgan," he apologized, "I will try to help you in any way I can-"_

_"Then help me escape," he begged. "Don't let them open me up like some sort of laboratory animal."_

_"I can't," he said, fear in his voice as he lowered it to a whisper. "They will catch me. There are guards."_

_"No," Henry shook his head. "Kill me. Please." Desperation dripped from his voice as he eyed the rope sitting across the room. He knew that that rope could be his freedom._

* * *

"Hm, it looks like my latest case is destined for insanity."

Annoyance pricks in my mind at the vaguely familiar, rather bored voice. It immediately brings to mind the image of a white haired medical examiner trying to wrap up a case of clear foul play as nothing but a drunken accident, insulting everyone around him while doing it.

Dr. Harold Washington on my case? Why, that is practically blasphemous.

"You should probably run a toxicology screening," Lucas adds, poorly feigning causality.

"May I remind you," Washington grumbled, "that you are an assistant and you are not even on this case."

"Yeah, well, he was my boss and I just want to see it's done right."

As Abe would say, You tell him, Lucas.

The medical examiner mumbles rude profanities under his breath and once again I wish I could move and more precisely speak. Lucas may be a bit much, but he deserves significantly more respect than that.

I feel a slight prick on my arm and then him drawing the blood from the vein. Wait, this was very good! If they found that I had a drug in my system that doesn't kill, they may realize I am not really dead. But what drug? Was that even a possibility?

Thoughts interrupted by a pat on my shoulder after Washington had stepped away, I was struck by how annoying it was not to see. "Don't worry, Doc. You might be dead, but I've still got your back. We'll figure out who did this to you."

Well, I'm not so sure about that, Lucas. But thank you, I appreciate it. All I hope is that you check out that toxicology report yourself. I don't exactly trust Harold with my life.

* * *

Abe sat on the couch in his living room, hands covering his face, mind still reeling. He was so confused, so upset, and so angry. How could someone do this? Literally, how? And why? Was this the anonymous caller? Had he somehow managed to kill Henry? Why would he even want to?

"So, Mr.," the detective, Hanson he had introduced himself as, started but paused. Abe looked out at him from between his fingers. "What did you say your last name was?"

Abe tried to organize his thoughts. 'Morgan' was the first thing he wanted to say. That was his name after all. But he couldn't go by that anymore, even now that his father was dead. What was he going by again? He usually just avoided using it when introducing himself to new people. "Uh, Reiger," he decided on. "But it's fine if you call be Abe."

"Okay, Abe," Hanson nodded, looking down at the little notepad in his hands. "Can you think of anyone specific who may have done this? Did Henry have any enemies he told you about that may have wanted him dead?"

Abe chewed on the inside of his cheek. Of course he did, but 'a fellow immortal who is over 2,000 years old and has been harassing Henry for months' would make him sound completely insane. "Well, he did work with the police a lot. He helped get people put in jail."

"We're aware of that and it's a definite possibility," Hanson said gently. "But is there anyone else we should know about? Was he keeping anything else hidden, like the stalker who framed him?"

Abe hated lying, but that wasn't to say he wasn't good at it. "If there was, Henry didn't tell me." It wouldn't even matter if for some strange reason he was believed- Adam was immortal, what could they do? Throw him in jail?

He nodded. "I see. One final question. Does Henry have any other family that should be notified of his death? Possibly back in England?"

Abe shook his head slowly, running his hand over his grey curls. "No. We were the only family either of us had."

Hanson's face softened from the-questioning-detective to a sympathetic expression. "I'm sorry. Henry was a terrific guy, and I'm going to miss him too." He pulled a card from his pocket. "You can call me if you think of anything regarding the investigation, or if you need anything."

Abe took the card, offering a slightly forced smile. "You're the third number today," he attempted to joke, adding his to Jo's and Lucas's. "I think... I just need to be alone."

Hanson left then, leaving Abe alone in the empty house. The shop owner soon found himself in the kitchen, going on autopilot to make a new dish. He put together ingredients, added spices and seasonings and cooked it perfectly, all the while his brain going over what he was going to do.

He was practically alone. Sure, he had his army buddies, and a few other friends, but they weren't family. There is a possibility that it wasn't this 'Adam' or whatever his name actually was, but who else could kill an immortal man? Why would he want to do it? You would think a man who had been alive for 2,000 years would have gained some wisdom, or at the very least be so desperate for companionship that wouldn't be gone in a few years, and would cling to the idea of another person who shared his condition. At least, before, Adam's actions had had some semblance of sense. He was trying to "teach" Henry some sort of immortal lesson to "help" him deal with his curse. But now... Abe just wanted answers, to know why his father had been taken from him so abruptly.

The meal sat plated in front of him on the counter. Though it smelled delectable, when he tried to taste it the idea of eating made him feel sick. Realizing there would no longer be another person coming home to try his experimental dishes, he dropped the entire thing in the trash, plate and all.

He hadn't wanted to eat, he just wanted to think. And Abraham had made up his mind. He knew exactly what he was going to do.

* * *

Jo sat at her desk, two piles of folders, one large and one small, beside the single folder sitting open in front of her. She looked it over and typed the name into her computer. In prison. She shut the file and discarded it to the taller pile, taking another and going through the same motions.

The detective paused from her research and took a gulp of coffee, rubbing her eyes that were just starting to feel less swollen. Hanson hasn't wanted her on the streets and investigating, and Reece had agreed, but she couldn't just sit around and do nothing. Her partner was dead, and not only was she out the one person who could have actually solved a crime like this, but she had lost a man that was quickly becoming her best friend. It had only been about a year since she had lost her husband, and now the man who had been helping her finally heal that wound was gone.

What in the world was she going to do? How was she going to get through this?

Well, what would Henry say if he was here? Probably something like, 'Death isn't what stops your heart, it's what makes you stop living, and I certainly hope that I would not be the cause of your death'. She surprised herself by smiling into her hand at the thought of Henry's voice coming from behind her. There was no doubt in her head that the pain of losing the doctor would haunt her as did losing her husband, but she also knew he would hate to see her as upset as she was. It just hurt so bad.

She jumped at a hand on her shoulder, turning to see who was there and finding Lieutenant Reece. She relaxed but was suddenly aware of the single tear that had streaked down her face without her realizing. She swiped it away hurriedly.

"How are you doing?" Reece questioned knowingly.

Jo took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Good as can be expected. I'm just, looking through Henry's old cases for possible suspects."

The lieutenant nodded, taking her hand off the detective's shoulder. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off anyway," she offered. "I can put someone else on this."

"That won't be necessary," Jo responded. "I'm fine. I've got to do this, for Henry."

"I understand," Reece responded. "But I'm keeping an eye on you. Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't." Jo offered a half-smile and Reece nodded, walking off. Turning back to the task she had been on, she put in another name. Another dead end, and another after that until she was out of files.

Jo leaned back far in her chair, sighing and discouraged. "Oh, Henry," she said under her breath, "I need you now more than ever."

* * *

**Okay, I made a cheeky eighties reference in here that you'll only get if you are fan of a certain Forever actor. ;) The first person to get it... Lets just say I'll write you a requested one-shot! Have at ye! (And please review, it makes me want to write more stories for my lovelies!)**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Well, well, well, what do we have here? Another chapter? And how disappointing, it's the shortest of all six! For that, I apologize. There is no excuse for such an atrocity besides Rumpelstiltskin's amateurish inability to extend it into a more appropriate length. Perhaps you will enjoy it anyway, however. It seems I shall see, or else you will never see your mortal writer again. **_

_**-Adam**_

**V: I'm supposed to be crying right now, but I already gave Rumpy away last chapter*, so how she got herself kidnapped is none of my concern, really...**

**(*by "chapter", I mean the last chapter in general she had me upload, which wasn't this story, it was the Gift Master shot.)**

* * *

It's growing later and later- I think. It's somewhat hard to keep track of time just laying here, unable to speak or open my eyes or do very much of anything besides listen. I do not recall a time in my life I have listened more. I know lunch had passed some time ago. Though some part of me was glad, Washington had yet to do the autopsy, saying he was waiting for the toxicology report before he did so.

Toxicology tests took twenty-four hours at the least.

That seemed to be perturbing Lucas quite a bit. He has been growing increasingly irritated with the replacement medical examiner ever since he had arrived, the man dealing with other of my cases that he had been assigned to instead of my own perceived death.

My cases. Harold Washington is working on _my_ cases, closing _my_ cases with his simplistic thinking. Is there no other doctor in this city that can take my place? If Adam had intended this to torture me, it is working.

The only thing worst he could do is actually start my autopsy now.

* * *

_1903, England_

_Henry could tell that the boy was considering his request and hope flared inside him. There were few other times in his life when he had wished so strongly for someone to kill him. "Please. Don't let them do this to me. I can tell you are a good man; you know that what they have planned is wrong."_

_He stood in silence before his eyes grew sad, even frightened. "I can't. They'll know. I'm sorry, but if they are willing to do such a thing to you, imagine what they are willing to do to me." He took the empty cup from Henry's hands and turned to leave the cell._

_"No. No!" Henry called after him, panic rising in his voice. "You mustn't let them do this to me! Please!"_

_The rest of the day and night passed without any more visits. No more food, no more water, and the boy never returned to see him. It wasn't until the early morning that three men entered his prison and removed him from his chains. The doctor resisted but it was useless._

_"Please, I beg of you," he pleaded as they wordlessly dragged him down a long hall. "I implore, to your sense of humanity. I ask not as an immortal to mortals, but as human to human. Please, please, this cannot be allowed. Please."_

_They neither responded nor acknowledged him, taking him into what appeared to be a surgical room. A man in a white lab coat and the boy who he had conversed with the day before stood within, along with a few other bystanders._

* * *

"Wait a minute there, Doc Washington," Lucas said eagerly. The medical examiner was beginning to pack up for the day, but he seemed to be forgetting one major thing. The man sent an annoyed look over his shoulder without a word, as if to say, 'well?' "You're leaving the Doc's body out," he informed.

Washington turned away. "I'm aware," he said simply.

"Well, uh, you really shouldn't do that," he tried to say as the M.E. started to leave. He rushed forward to walk backwards in front of him. "You haven't autopsied him yet, or, uh, done much of any investigation at all yet and decomp could interfere with evidence-"

"I'm. Aware." He stopped and somewhat glared at the assistant. "We are out of cold storage, however, and since he was the latest body to come in that has already been identified the logical conclusion is to leave him out."

"But-" before Lucas could argue, Harold moved him out of the way and headed for the elevator. Lucas was left staring in surprise after the apathetic medical examiner. How could he care so little for a colleague, and a brilliant one at that?

He was left alone now in the morgue, everyone else now gone for the day. How could he leave such an important case in the hands of someone who cared so little? Detective Martinez had warned him against being involved in the case, but if she knew how little was being done, she'd want him to do something, right? Maybe he'd just call her and request a better medical examiner. But, no, that would take too long, too. If Henry was in his situation, he'd do something for sure. It was a risk, but Henry had risked a case and even his career in the past for him, he owed him!

Lucas grabbed a camera and trace evidence kits and got to work immediately. He photographed a tiny puncture wound on his boss's neck and a few other possible pieces of evidence. He found very little trace on him except for a hair that could be from anything and a tiny drop of blood on his hand. Discouraged, Lucas leaned against the table behind him and stared at the body. The puncture could suggest he was poisoned with something through an injection, but the tox report wouldn't be back until the morning. Plus, there was always a chance that whatever was used wouldn't even show up on it.

Maybe- maybe he should do the autopsy himself, get it done as soon as possible and see if it provided any clues. He brought out the surgical tools, the sound of them clattering against the metal cart making him feel oddly apprehensive. He had done an autopsy on his lunch break in a mortuary, he could handle this! Right?

Lucas pulled back Dr. Morgan's dark coat and unbuttoned his vest and shirt, removing his tie and overall prepping the body how he would any for autopsy. He was surprised to see a rather gruesome scar on Henry's chest, right over his heart, and idly wondered how long that had been there and what had caused it. He sighed. Just one more mystery that he would never figure out about his boss.

He picked up the scalpel and looked around suspiciously, even though he knew he was alone. Lucas moved his hand over his boss's chest, letting it hover there for a second as he hesitated. He went to press the blade into the area below the neck, but suddenly realized how bad his hand was shaking before he could break the skin.

Lucas pulled back, unintentionally letting the scalpel clatter to the floor. He shuddered, backing against another table and leaning there for a moment. "Who knew," he said out loud, "Detective Martinez was right. I don't want to do that. Sorry, Doc."

He pulled a sheet up over Henry's bare chest, still feeling like he hadn't done enough to figure this all out. What if whatever had killed the doctor didn't show up on the screening?

He smacked a hand against his forehead. Spectro-analysis, of course! How could he forget? If he started one now, he could have results by morning.

Grabbing a syringe, Lucas drew more blood from the body and rushed off to start the test.

* * *

When Abe had first made his decision, it had struck him that maybe he was being ridiculous. How would he even begin to look for Adam? Was it even possible to find such a man? Would he be wasting his time even trying?

He had even considered the fact that, if this man had been willing and able to kill Henry, he could easily do the same to a completely mortal old man. His father wouldn't want him risking his safety for him. But Abe had so many unanswered questions, he couldn't go on with leaving them unanswered. Not when his entire life he had expected to be outlived by the man who raised him.

He wasn't quite sure why he thought returning to the scene of Henry's murder would help. He had discovered its location through the news, and for some reason had decided to go there at the same time of its occurrence the next day. The alley was dark and damp and he could see very little. He shuddered at the thought that this was the place Henry had taken his last breath.

Why did Henry even have to come here? Why couldn't he have just ignored whatever he saw? Immortality was no reason to lack all sense of self-preservation!

His father had spent much of his very long life searching for death, the one thing he felt he could never have. Perhaps Abe should feel some slight happiness for the man to finally get what he had wanted? Was he being selfish? He knew that Henry would lose him one day and that would be just one more painful loss to add on top of everyone he knew going back 235 years. They _did_ say that a parent should never outlive their children.

But, no. Abe looked around again, at the footprints jumbled around the dirty cement. This wasn't what Henry wanted. He wanted to grow old, go grey, slow down and age gracefully as he had always urged his son to do. He shouldn't have died alone in a cold, dark, alley. Nobody should, and Henry was no exception.

A gravelly voice interrupted Abe's thoughts, freezing him in his place.

"There is nothing more amusing than an impetuous child."

* * *

**Oh, and Adam says to review or he won't let R go. I highly doubt he'll keep sending the chapters. He seems like a jerk.**


	5. Chapter 5

**R: Hello my lovelies! I am free from the clutches of that mad-man at long last. (No thanks to Vlad, trading access to our account for cheetohs. And she calls me a runt.)**

**V: Don't judge me. And you are one.**

**R: It is now time for Chapter 5, which is personally my favorite chapter. Btw, I have offered three people so far one-shot requests for getting my earlier reference, but none have responded at all. If any of you want one, please tell me before I post chapter 6! If you don't, you'll lose the opportunity (I'll offer to someone else), sorry. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

The voice was only vaguely familiar to Abraham. He only recalled it from momentary questions over the phone of, "Can I speak to Henry?" Still, he knew instantly who that voice belonged to. Who else would be there? And who else would call him a child?

"Your father would be disappointed in your being here, Abe," it continued to say, but the antique dealer couldn't bring himself to turn around. "But that's because he's still quite a young man. He still sees worth in protecting those lives that are practically nothing compared to his."

"He was still a good person," Abe responded tightly, finally starting to slowly turn as he heard steps coming towards him.

"That's because he's immature," Adam said knowingly. "He has yet to realize that these short-term attachments are meaningless."

Abe scoffed. "Well, if you wanted Henry to know those things, you should have told them to him before you killed him. That could have been more productive."

Adam's grin twisted into a toothy one. "Oh, I've tried. But he is just as stubborn as you appear to be. Why are you looking for me, Abe? Did you inherit your father's lack of self-preservation as well?"

"I want to know why you would kill him," Abe said. "Just, why did you do it? I don't understand. What was the point? Why?"

"It's just another lesson, Abraham," Adam said with a lilting quality, walking away from him. "Just a lesson. Wait and see."

Abe couldn't do anything but watch him walk away. He must be mad, there was no other possibility he could think of.

* * *

When Lucas had arrived at the morgue that morning, he was very conflicted on how he should feel. To start, he was exhausted, having stayed up quite longer than usual working on Henry's case. And to add onto that, Dr. Washington wasn't exactly happy when he saw that he had 'tampered extensively' with 'his' body. But, on the other hand, the tox reports were back. Then again, they weren't fabulous either.

So, he had taken the evidence he had collected and headed down to the 11th Precinct. He quickly found Detective Martinez who looked reasonably surprised to see him.

"Lucas," she started from where she stood by a coffee machine, "what are you doing here? You look awful."

"Well, you don't look as good as usual, either," he replied. "Though, you still look, uh," he stuttered, swallowing a bit nervously, "pretty awesome."

The detective rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Clearing his throat, Lucas held up a paper bag. "I brought evidence."

"Is this about Henry?" she asked, lowering her voice. "I told you weren't supposed to get involved because of your personal-"

"I know, I know," Lucas nodded. "I tried. But Doc Washington isn't exactly someone I want to trust with Henry's case."

"You didn't do an autopsy, did you?" she demanded, beginning to walk with him.

"Um, well, I couldn't." He scratched the back of his neck, recalling the night before and his failed attempt to do just that. Even now the idea made him feel incredibly anxious.

She shook her head as she stopped by her desk to grab her jacket. "Yeah, you probably figured out why they don't allow that, didn't you?"

"I did find evidence, though," Lucas told her, skirting her question. "And the toxicology reports came back this morning. Unfortunately, all it found was a trace of chloroform in his system. Far from enough to kill him. But a puncture wound on his neck does suggest he was injected with something."

Jo frowned. "So we really have no idea what caused this."

"Right now, yeah," Lucas said. "But I started a spectro-analysis last night and that will tell us the chemical make-up of whatever is in his system."

"So we can still figure out what killed him?" Jo asked, a bit eagerly. She started to lead him towards the building's elevators.

"Probably," Lucas answered. "Um, where exactly are we going?"

"I need better coffee," she said. "And it looks like you do too."

It wasn't long before the two sat across from each other in a small coffee shop, Jo going through the evidence Lucas had brought. "I certainly wish there was more," Jo sighed, "But thanks, it could help."

"No problem," Lucas leaned back against his chair. "I had to do something."

"I know what you mean," Jo nodded. "Hanson is handling the case, doesn't want me involved for now. I've been going over cases and making calls and everything I can think of to feel like I'm contributing. But I've gotten practically nowhere and neither has Hanson."

"Part of me keeps expecting the Doc to show up and blow up the case but then I remember he is the case," Lucas sighed.

Jo nodded slowly, sipping at her coffee. "I do too. It's weird, I don't... feel like he's gone. I feel like he's still here." Lucas just offered her a confused look. "When my husband died, I felt like a part of me was gone. Henry kind of... took up part of that, and I still feel like that piece is still there. It's almost worse than feeling it empty."

"Maybe it's because he seemed so indestructible, or at least he did to me," Lucas offered. "Like, he was always getting into these crazy situations and looking death in the face and being all exciting, but nothing really seemed to be able to kill him."

"On our first case together, I thought I saw him throw himself off a building to save everyone in Grand Central," Jo added. "Obviously it was because I was shot and losing blood, but I get what you're saying."

"Henry dying is like, killing Batman or something," Lucas said sadly.

"Well, then," Jo leaned forwards, "Let's catch that Joker, Robin."

Lucas smiled at that. "You think I'm his Robin?"

* * *

_1903, England_

_Henry Morgan's captors strapped the struggling man down to a cold metal table. He pulled against the restraints futilely for a moment before letting his head fall back in bleak acceptance. He turned his head and met to eyes of the young man from the day previous, who quickly averted his gaze to elsewhere in the room._

_"Don't look so morose, Dr. Morgan," the older man in a white coat, round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, said. "You are about to provide the medical and scientific world a great service! As a fellow scientist, I'm sure you can appreciate that."_

_Henry sent the man a hateful glare. "There is nothing scientific about this. Science is meant for the betterment of humanity, not its loss."_

_"What could be better for humanity than immortality?" the man questioned as the people around him buzzed around in preparation. "I just want to know why you have something that eludes the rest of us."_

_"You aren't going to find anything!" Henry practically shouted._

_The man turned away from him then, speaking instead to those around him. "I want him to be conscious during the dissection. We are more likely to lose him if he is under anesthesia."_

_"What?" the doctor gasped in disbelief. At that moment, rags were stuffed into his mouth, gagging him and muffling any of his desperate pleas._

_"No, wait!" The younger man protested. "You can't do that, it's cruel. You've got to give him something to ease the pain!"_

_"I don't have to do anything, boy," the man responded. "Do as you're told; your job is to take orders."_

_He shrunk back, standing towards the side the room and watching._

_The room grew quiet around Henry Morgan, except for the occasional barked order. An IV was stuck in his arm and he squeezed his eyes shut at the clatter of surgical tools._

_A garbled scream sounded around the rags in Henry's mouth as he felt the scalpel dig into his chest._

* * *

I know exactly how all this is going to end. I am going to wait in this paralyzed state until Washington gets around to my autopsy- which is taking much too long for any good medical examiner. I will die during the autopsy and disappear in front of everyone. Then I will reappear in the river and explain to Abe what happened, and we will be forced to run. Again.

So this was what Adam had wanted? To wreck a life that I had spent years building? How utterly pointless. What lesson could this possibly teach? That life wasn't fair? That I can never spend too long in one place? I know all that. He is teaching me nothing new, except to hate every fiber of his being.

Poor Abraham, if only there was a way for this not to uproot him as well. And if only there was a way for me leave without hurting everyone I have become close to, particularly Jo. However, there did not appear to be any other way out of this.

Resigning myself, I turn my attention back to the morgue doors, which I could faintly hear opening. "Well, if it isn't the bold assistant," Washington says snidely. "Why are you here, Detective?"

"I want to know why you haven't started Dr. Morgan's autopsy yet?" Jo's voice sounds as she walks purposely towards him.

"I'm a very busy man," Washington replied.

"Like hell you are," she mumbles under her breath. "You were specifically brought in to deal with this case!"

"I was brought in to deal with Dr. Morgan's entire caseload. And he has quite a heavy one."

A moment of silence passes with what I can only assume is a heated glare passing between them.

"I don't know if you have something personal against Henry," she hissed, "but if you do not get to his body as soon as possible, I'm going to slap you with as many charges as I can come up with. Obstruction of justice, mishandling of human remains; I'm sure I can come up with more if I use my imagination." I hear her turn on her heels and walk back towards my body and I smile internally.

"Wow, that was so hot." Lucas, of course. A pause, and he clears his throat. "Sorry."

"Can I see the body?" Jo asks with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Yeah, sure, of course," Lucas says and pulls the sheet down from my face. "Maybe a new set of eyes will see something I missed."

"Where is the puncture wound?" she asks, and he turns my head to the side. "And that's from a needle?"

"Most likely."

Suddenly, a sound of something being smacked down on a metal surface. A cart, most likely. "Here you go, Mr. Wahl, the spectrometer results you ordered behind my back." Washington, clearly.

"Um, thank you?" Lucas responds, then pauses, likely looking it over. "It looks like there is a known neurotoxin in his system. 'Tetrodotoxin'."

Tetrodotoxin. Where have I heard of that before? It's not a drug, that much I recall. It's a natural-born toxin, correct?

"That could provide us with some clues, couldn't it?" Jo asks, a hint of excitement entering his voice. "We could track it if it's been bought anywhere recently, or if it black-market or something."

"I'm not even totally sure what it is myself," Lucas replies, "Though it sounds vaguely familiar. Maybe I know it under another name." They both start walking away, to a computer I assume, and I can hardly hear their voices as they continue conversing.

Tetrodotoxin. Ah, that's right, derived from tetraodontiformes! More popularly known as the class of marine animals similar to the pufferfish. Well-known for causing severe paralysis when consumed. Quite fatal, but not always, and can leave it's victims conscious while under it's effects.

They return to my body. "So it's pufferfish venom? Somebody injected him with that?"

"Maybe they wanted it to look like he had just eaten it, I'm pretty sure it's a delicacy in Japan," Lucas offered.

"That doesn't really seem likely." Jo sighed. "Hm, the puncture wound is scabbed over, is that normal?" she asked curiously.

I hear papers ruffle. Did Lucas print out the information on the venom? "It says the toxin can take significantly over twenty minutes for the victim to start showing symptoms so it could have happened before Henry died."

Jo was silent for a moment. "He wasn't gone that long. And if he had been stabbed in the neck, I think he would have mentioned it. It seems odd."

"Yeah, it actually does," Lucas agrees, almost distractedly. The papers ruffle again, this time with even more earnest. I suddenly feel him lift one of my arms, and then the other. "It definitely does! Woah!"

"What is it, Lucas?" Jo asks in confusion. "What do you think it is?"

"Look at these!" He lifts one of my arms again. "What do you notice about these puncture wounds?"

"Other than the fact you didn't mention them to me until right now?" Jo asks, irritated. "They look pretty much like the one on his neck."

"I didn't mention them because these are where Doc Washington and I drew blood," Lucas says excitedly. "They are healing!"

Lucas, did you just...?

"Detective, corpses don't heal!"

* * *

**I love Lucas, he's wonderful.**

**Please review! Next chapter is the last, expect it on Monday. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Greetings, my lovelies! The final chapter has finally arrived! Now, I must say, I did struggle a tad with this chapter, particularly how to wrap it up. I debated between adding an epilogue instead of the one I went with, but I honestly had no idea what would be in it. I think I came up with the best possible ending though. Please, enjoy!**

* * *

Abe had found who he was looking for, but it had left him with even more questions than he had initially had. Why did Adam have to talk in riddles like some sort of super villain in an old TV show? It was frustrating beyond belief. He just wanted closure. Maybe he'd never get closure, not when he had never expected this death to ever actually happen.

The antique dealer sighed, getting up from where he sat in his living room and making his way to the basement stairs. He made his way down them and sat at one of the tables in Henry's dungeon of death. Every single thing in this room held a piece of his father. Henry kept everything for a reason. Perhaps that would help him cope.

But something Adam had said continued to jump back into Abe's mind. 'That's because he's immature.' 'He's immature'? He 'is' immature? Adam continued to refer to the medical examiner in the present. Why would he do that?

The telephone suddenly ringing practically made Abe jump out of his skin. He went to reach for the receiver but hesitated. Was he going to to be the new victim of Adam's continuous cryptic messages from now on? No, that couldn't be it. He didn't have anything that Adam could want.

He picked up the phone, waiting for the other side to speak first.

"Abe?"

"Jo?" he replied, a bit surprised.

"Yeah, hey, are you sitting down?" she questioned.

Abe raised an eyebrow, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "Why?"

"I have something to tell you but, you might want to sit down."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Abe responded. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I guess I should just come out and tell you," Jo paused, seemingly to collect herself, "You see, Henry is alive."

The first thing Abe wanted to ask was 'Did you actually see his body disappear?', but thought better of it. He was silent for quite some time while trying to think of what to say. "Um, what? How?" That would cover everything, right?

"Apparently Henry was poisoned with a neurotoxin that causes complete paralysis," she explained. "You'll have to ask Lucas for all the details. But he found out that Henry's body was still healing his wounds."

"Wait, so..." Abe tried to wrap his mind around what he was hearing, "He was never really dead?"

"No!" Jo said happily. "He's basically in a coma. It's not unheard of it to happen where people are mistaken for dead."

Abe pressed his hand to his forehead, backing up to sit in a chair. "He's not dead?"

"Abe, he's not only alive, but he's probably going to be fine."

* * *

I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. My secret is safe. I won't have to leave.

I take it back, Lucas. _This_ is the greatest thing you have ever done, and I can't wait to tell you. I can't wait to hold Jo's hand and thank her for leading him in the right direction. I can't wait to hug Abe and apologize for everything I've put him through.

I'm so thankful that I will have that opportunity now.

Jo is in my hospital room now, on the phone with Abraham, telling him that I am very much alive.

"Of course, I'll see you here in a few minutes," she says before hanging up the phone. I feel her hand slip into mine and I am glad I don't need to squeeze it back to let her know I'm here. "The doctors said there is a pretty good chance that you are completely aware right now, Henry," she whispers close to my ear.

I am, Jo.

"So, if you are, I just want you to know I'm sorry it took me so long to realize you were in trouble."

It wasn't your fault, don't blame yourself. There was no way you could have known what was happening.

"I just can't tell you how happy I am you are okay. And when you can talk, I'll actually have a chance at figuring out who did this to you."

About that...

"Hey, Detective!" Lucas calls as he enters the room, and steps toward my bedside, putting a hand on my shoulder. "How's he doing?"

"The doctors said his vitals are 'faint but stable', which is good," Jo explains. "But it might take a few days for the toxin to wear off."

"Well, a few days is better than never," Lucas pointed out.

Quite true, quite true.

* * *

_1903, England_

_Henry Morgan bit down hard against the rags in his mouth, tears of pain streaming from the corners of his eyes. The men around him, however, talked as if this were completely average procedure, recounting what they saw or giving orders to supply him with more blood to keep the doctor alive._

_The dissection edged on but all remained shockingly level- that is, all but one. The young man still stood to the side, face drained of color as he watched what transpired before him. Occasionally he would complete a barked order and hand a tool to a "doctor", but other than that he felt frozen. He wished he could do something to help the only real doctor in this room, but he was terrified; simply petrified._

_"Boy!" the head man, the one who had ordered Henry stay awake, shouted. The young man started, confused. "I said hand me the forceps!"_

_As ordered, he grabbed up the medical pincers but hesitated. The man stood on the other side of the doctor's body and the boy dreaded the idea of having to lean over it and see the open chest._

_"I said now!"_

_The boy stepped forward, starting to hand the forceps to the man but froze, looking at the exposed organs of Dr. Morgan, then to his face, contorted in pain and exhaustion. The boy pulled the the tool back from the angry scientist and instead plunged it deep into Henry's heart._

_Henry's eyes flew open and he sucked in one last painful breath of air, vaguely aware of the rage-filled voices around him that were quickly drowned out by images of his life flying through his mind._

* * *

Recovering from his poisoning was very unusual for Henry. He was so used to appearing suddenly in water, head bursting above the surface and sucking in a lungful of fresh air. Compared to the rush, the roar, of coming back to life from the dead, 'waking up' from this was a whimper.

Though, in this case, he much preferred the whimper.

He had recovered gradually, each stage celebrated by his friends and his son. First he had been able to open and move his eyes, a welcome reprieve from the constant darkness, then move his head, neck, and mouth so he was actually able acknowledge his visitors. He couldn't have been happier, though, when he was finally able to sit up and speak. By then, nearly four days had passed in predominantly one-sided conversations, and Henry Morgan had much he wanted to say.

He had a modest crowd once everyone had been informed, including Abe, Jo, and Lucas, and even Hanson and Reece had stopped by briefly.

When the initial excitement over his progress was over, he had reached out a hand and Lucas had taken it in a bit of surprise. He shook it with a smile that his assistant quickly returned. "Thank you, Lucas. I don't know how I can ever repay you for, well, saving my life."

"Could you answer a question for me?" he offered.

"Of course."

"If you're Batman, does that make me Robin?"

Henry glanced at Abe for help, who just laughed, then to Jo who rolled her eyes and mouthed, 'Say yes'.

"Um, yes, it would seem that way," Henry offered, a bit unsure.

Lucas beamed, so Henry turned to Jo. His partner leaned in and they pulled each other into a mutual embrace. "Don't blame yourself for any of this, Jo," he whispered into her ear and she just squeezed him tighter in acknowledgement. After a long moment the partners pulled apart and Henry looked to both her and Lucas. "May I have a moment alone with Abe?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Jo nodded with a smile. "Let's go get some coffee, Lucas."

Lucas jumped up from his seat to follow her. "Is this becoming, like, a regular thing?" Jo rolled her eyes yet again, exiting the room with the man behind her.

"Henry, you terrified me!" was the first thing Abe said, even as Henry took his hand to pull him in closer for a hug. "I'm sorry I didn't realize that you weren't... I feel like a moron."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Abraham," Henry told him, holding his shoulders. "I could hear all of it. I know how hard you tried to see if I was alive. I'm just sorry for all the pain I put you through," he said, guilt in his voice.

"That's hardly your fault," Abe brushed it off. "You didn't ask Adam to poison you."

Henry just placed a hand on the back of his son's head with a grateful smile, pulling him in a bit to place a kiss on his forehead. "Abe, I'm not going anywhere. I promised you I'll always be here for you and I intend to keep that promise. I'll always be here."

Abe squeezed his shoulder. "I know, Henry. I just hope you don't get angry when you find out what I did."

"Abraham," Henry said slowly, a suspicious look crossing his face. He knew that guilty look all-too-well. "What did you do?"

* * *

When Dr. Henry Morgan returned to work, he was practically no worse for wear. He went about his day predictably, ending up outdoors yet again assisting his partner is a murder investigation- an actual murder this time. Quite unfortunately, the good doctor was unable to provide any further clues as to who attacked him. 'Just a man he had noticed following him that morning, he never got a good look at him'. His secret was infinitely more precious to him than catching the man who had poisoned him, of course.

He investigated the scene as he often did, easily picked out from the officers he assisted in his usual coat and vest and tie and shirt, strung together by his most constant companion, a scarf. This was the reason why the medical examiner still was the way he was. Dr. Morgan refused to change. He refused to carry a cellphone, refused to enter social media, refused to use a microwave. He refused to change and instead let the world change around him. He would never progress if he continued to live how he did.

But my latest attempt to teach him had backfired. I hadn't expected the mortals to be able to see past an illusion of death. How unfortunate.

No matter. I have all the time in the world to change you, Henry.

* * *

**And there it is, thank you all for putting up with my scheduled posting and cliffhangers and vaguely gory themes! All your support has been sooooo amazing that I have already planned out another multichapter story for you all. I don't want to give too much away, but I will tell you this much: It will be much more crime-solvey and involved, and longer (I planned out 10 chapters). While Henry will, of course, still be the focus, the plot itself will actually revolve more around a certain someone else you might not see coming! (And, just a heads up, the plot will be a tad triggery I suppose. Not horrible, but a little dark.) So, the more supportive reviews I get, the quicker I will get it all written out so I can post on a regular schedule like Illusion! Have at ye!**


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